My other half (A Brittana story) - Lesbian Stories

Breaking the silence

(Santana’s POV) (Sunday) (Morning)

It’s been a 2 weeks since I last talked to Brittany. I miss her. I miss her so much. Maybe I should just give her a call? Or a text? She’s gotten her time now, we need to talk if she’s still mad at me. I looked up some things about her past, she must be over it by now. I’ll call her later. 

I got out of bed and went downstairs to the kitchen. Dad and Noah were home. I could see their coats in the hallway. I looked at the clock on the microwave 

7.15am

It was still early but I wasn’t tired. I usually am on Sundays but not today. I went to sleep early last night. I was exhausted. I failed the history test  but thank god Mr. Shue let me do it again, so I had to stay up all Saturday, studying. He probably just felt bad for me after what happened in class this Monday. I didn’t. Not anymore at least. At first I was hurt, but then something just changed in me. I just stopped caring. When I did that, somehow, everyone else did as well. Everybody just let me be. They didn’t care anymore. Sam and I were history and everybody knew that. Sam and I were still weird. I wasn’t mad at him anymore but I hadn’t forgiven him yet. It might take a while for me to ever trust him again but I do feel like it might happen, somewhere in the future. Even tho everybody stopped talking about me and Sam. People were still talking about me. I didn’t know what, since nobody would talk to me. I don’t know why, because I wasn’t the one who was cheating. If I cheated on Sam then I would’ve understood, but now he was the cheater. 

I got my mind on different things and started to make breakfast. I made some scrambled eggs and some bacon. I also made myself a grilled cheese sandwich and poured myself some orange juice I found in the fridge. I took my breakfast downstairs to my room and put on a movie on my computer. I wasn’t in the mood for any horror movie this early and I couldn’t pay attention to an action movie, so I decided to go with a romantic comedy. It was after all, my favorite category. I really love laughing and I’m a hopeless romantic. Yo don’t believe it when you see me, but I am. I’m the type of girl who appreciate the little things, like breakfast in bed. Or the small, meaningful talks. I love when the other person isn’t afraid to show feelings and wants the best for me. 

I love when people are romantic for me, but it’s even better if I get to do the romantic part. I would take them to the beach I found as a kid, the one who’s almost always empty, at sunset, where I’d made up a picnic. We would sit on a blanket in the sand, toasting. The sun would go down, and the stars would come out. It must be a starry night, or the whole thing would be ruined. We would lay down and watch the stars as we talked about things. Meaningful things, like things we feared. Not like heights or spiders. More like rejection or oblivion. Things that can’t be overcome, the fears who makes us who we are. After that we’d talked for a while. We’d get up and take a walk in the sand. We’d still be talking, but no longer of fears, but why we feared our fears. We’d tell each other what we liked most about life, what we want to be when we grow up, what our biggest dreams are. We’d get to know each other and after the walk we’d spontaneously jump in the water. I’d probably be freezing and the other person would carry me up to the beach and wrap me in a blanket and sit next to me, holding their arms around me, making me feel comfortable. And after that, everything would just go as it wished. I didn’t care anymore after that. 

All of these thoughts, I had them planned out in a journal. I made them five years ago, then I didn’t think they were anything I’d hold on to, but they stuck, and now, now I want them to come true more than ever.